


Bakeology

by SweetHermitress



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Alternative Universe - Bakery, Bakery AU, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 14:19:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7687777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetHermitress/pseuds/SweetHermitress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos is a new baker in town.  Cecil continues to come in, but he has a secret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bakeology

Carlos had hoped the opening of his bakery would be a success, but he'd never dreamed the whole town would turn out. Given the small size of Night Vale, he wondered how much had to do with actually wanting to try his baked goods and how much had to do with the fact that he was from out of town. Still, those who came in that first day all walked out with at least one item, so even if they'd only come out of curiosity, he was grateful they'd come at all. He liked to think that a few of them might become regular customers after tasting his wares.

The morning crowd had come and gone, entirely depleting him of muffins and biscotti, so he hurried into the back to make some more, every now and then peeking out front to make sure he hadn't missed anyone. He waited on an old woman who called herself Josie and who was accompanied by a few rather tall friends who were all named Erika. She picked out some black and white cookies, and after she paid, Carlos hurried to the back to make sure his muffins weren't burning. He popped them out of their tins and set them on cooling racks.

Before he could start another batch, the bell up front jingled, letting him know he had another customer. Carlos wiped his hands on his apron, which was already covered in flour, and jogged up front. There he saw a man holding a notebook, inspecting the little rows of cookies and brownies and other treats. When he saw Carlos, his eyes widened a bit and his jaw slackened.

Carlos pushed up his glasses, creating a floury smear on one lens. He gave a crooked smile. "Can I help you?"

The man stared a moment, then visibly shook himself. "Um, yes. My name is Cecil, Cecil Palmer. I'm with Night Vale Community Radio. I heard about your little business and I just wanted to... Check it out." As he said this, he looked up and down Carlos and smiled.

Carlos felt himself redden. Was this man flirting with him? "Uh... OK. Well, there's not much to tell, really. The City Council had incentives for new businesses, so I came here. Everyone's been very friendly so far."

Cecil continued to grin. Carlos noticed that his pen hovered over the notebook, but he hadn't written anything down. "Well, what about the name of the shop: Bakeology. Where did it come from?"

Carlos felt a little more at ease. "Well, it's actually a pretty simple story. I wanted to convey the science behind baking. A lot of people think it's just an art, but there really is a lot of science behind baking." Suddenly seized with inspiration, Carlos held up a hand, then dashed to the back to retrieve a muffin. He held it up. "Take this banana nut muffin. You need flour and eggs to bind together, oil for moisture, banana for starch and flavor, a little dash of salt to bring out the sweetness of everything - "

He stopped, realizing Cecil was staring at him. He'd done it again, rambled too long about baking. "Sorry, I just really find it fascinating."

Cecil nodded and said "Neat!" He then grimaced and blushed.

Carlos pulled self-consciously on the edge of his apron. "Um, can I get you anything? These muffins are fresh out of the oven, but there are - "

"Yes!" Cecil cried out. "The muffin, I'll have it."

Carlos handed the muffin to Cecil. Their fingers brushed together briefly, and Carlos hurriedly pulled away. Cecil pulled the paper off the muffin, looked at it a moment, then took a large bite. He hummed delightedly.

"Oh, Mr. Baker this is delicious!" He moaned through chews. "I haven't had a muffin this good since... Well, it's been years."

Now Carlos blushed. "I'm so glad you like it." Realizing what Cecil called him, he wiped his hand on his apron and offered it. "I'm sorry, where are my manners? My name is Carlos. Carlos the baker."

Cecil eagerly took his hand and shook his vigorously. "I'm sure I'll be seeing a lot of you, Carlos."

The next day wasn't quite as busy, but there was still a crowd in the morning. Carlos was surprised to realize he remembered most of the names. There was Josie and her tall friends, the Erikas, Nazr, Michelle. But all of them mentioned another name: Cecil.

Carlos remembered the brief interview he gave the radio host, but he was surprised to learn just how much Cecil had talked about him on his broadcast. As a baker, he had to make sure his goods were ready bright and early, so he normally went to bed before Cecil's show. Apparently he was correct - the host had been flirting with him, and in fact was quite smitten. The terms "perfect" and "falling in love instantly" were thrown around. Carlos didn't know how to respond to this knowledge. When someone brought it up he merely blushed and thanked them for the information. 

Putting out a fresh tray of cream puffs, the bell rang and he glanced up. When he saw it was Cecil, he felt the blood rush to his cheeks. What could he say to him? Well, maybe it was best to pretend he didn't know anything that had been said. Yes, that would be best.

Cecil was smiling and Carlos felt himself blush more. "Hello, Mr. Baker," he called out in a sing-song voice. "How are things going today?"

Carlos cleared his throat. "Things are great. I don't like to brag, but Mayor Winchell herself came in and got a few things."

"Wonderful!" Cecil moved to lean on the counter, but slipped momentarily. He fumbled a bit, then found his balance. He smiled as if nothing had happened. Carlos couldn't help but smile back. Did he actually make Cecil nervous? For a brief moment he thought of asking him, but then thought better of it.

"Well, you're probably wondering why I'm here," Cecil went on.

Carlos shrugged. "Just figured you wanted some pastries."

"Uh, yes!" Cecil replied in a high-pitched voice. "I'm very into pastries these days. I'll, uh," his eyes scanned the displays, "I'll just take whatever's best today."

"Hm, whatever's best, eh? Well, as a baker, I think they're all pretty great, but these are freshest." Carlos gestured to the cream puffs.

Cecil nodded and Carlos started to get him a bag. "No, that's all right," Cecil interrupted. "I'll just eat it here."

Carlos handed him the cream puff. As he did the day before, Cecil took a long look at the pastry before finally taking a bite. His eyes rolled up in bliss. "Oh, Carlos!" he murmured, "I don't even remember the last time I had a cream puff!" He took another bite, then another. Carlos almost worried he might choke on it.

Soon Cecil had eaten the entire thing. He took a napkin from the counter and wiped the crumbs from his mouth. "Cream puff? More like dream puff!" He laughed at his own quip, and Carlos politely laughed back. It was a bad joke, but it was someone endearing in its own way. He couldn't remember anyone eating his pastries so quickly.

That night Carlos made sure to stay up later than usual so he could catch Cecil's show. If this man was going to be talking about him, he wanted to hear it firsthand from now on. He didn't have to wait long before the topic turned to him and his bakery.

"This morning I went back to Bakeology, listeners," he was saying. "You know, that new bakery in town next to Big Rico's Pizza? Well, this morning that handsome baker, Carlos, suggested I have one of his cream puffs. More like dream puffs!" He chuckled again, and Carlos couldn't help but join in with him. "It really was perfectly dreamy - just like Carlos himself. Now, listeners, I know I'm being bad with these pastries, but how can I resist when they're not only delicious, but they're sold by such a charming, classically attractive baker?"

Carlos blushed, but also puzzled at this comment that Cecil was being bad. It was pretty common for customers to confide that they were cheating on their diets by getting his baked goods, but Cecil didn't seem like the sort to worry about his figure. Not that he needed to. He looked quite nice as he was. Carlos shook that thought away. He was here to bake, not find love.

As the weeks went on, and then the months, love is what Carlos found. For Night Vale and its citizens, of course. He got used to the patterns. Michelle came in before her shift at the record store. Nazr came in before school started. Even Big Rico from next door would come in whenever Carlos had cannolis. 

But every day, without fail, it was Cecil who drew Carlos' eye. 

At first he'd only take Carlos' suggestions as to whatever was freshest, cookies fresh out of the oven, just-frosted cupcakes. But soon Cecil's preferences came out. He liked banana nut muffins, but he liked apple cinnamon ones better. He liked the edges of the brownies better than the middles. But his favorites were the Mexican wedding cookies, the recipe for which Carlos got from his mother. It took months for him to admit it to himself, but Carlos eventually came to realize that his heart caught in his throat whenever Cecil came in, that he was always eager to have Cecil try a new treat, that it was Cecil who he always hoped was coming into his store.

One day Carlos was wiping off his counter, chatting with a customer who usually came in with his step-daughter, a sweet girl in a wheelchair. This time he was alone, and he was good-naturedly joshing with Carlos about Cecil's continued public admiration of Carlos. "Yeah, I guess we were all surprised," he was saying, "but with treats as good as these, who can blame Cecil for cheating?"

Carlos was confused. "Steve, what do you mean?"

Steve started a bit, then reddened. "Oh! Well, I guess he didn't tell you. He's gluten-intolerant." He ruffled his hair sheepishly. "I guess we all figured it was his own business if he wanted to cheat on the diet, but until you came around, he was pretty religious about it."

Carlos was dumbstruck. All those muffins, those brownies, those cookies - how sick they must have been making Cecil! He was horrified to think of how his baked goods must have been making Cecil feel. Realizing he had said something wrong, Steve picked up his bag of cupcakes and left.

Shortly thereafter, the bell rang and sure enough, it was Cecil. Somehow he never was in the store with Steve. Cecil was smiling and chatting away, "Carlos, you'll never guess: John Peters - you know, the farmer? - he's dropping off his imaginary corn shipment at the greenmarket and he said -"

Suddenly Cecil saw the somber look on Carlos' face. "Carlos, what's wrong?" he rushed, "Did something burn?"

Carlos felt like he was near tears. "Why didn't you tell me you were gluten-intolerant?" he demanded.

Cecil's face fell, then twisted into a sneer. "Steve Carlsberg..." he growled.

"Cecil, I could have made you really sick!"

Cecil hung his head. "I know..."

"You didn't have to eat anything when you came in."

"I know, but -"

"Cecil, I -" Carlos really wanted to say "I would never want to hurt you," but instead he simply asked, "Then why?"

Cecil's eyes finally met Carlos. "Don't you know?"

Carlos opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. Yes, he knew. And even though he was still devastated at the thought that he could have done serious harm to Cecil, he was still grateful for every time he came in, for every smile, every laugh. The way his eyes sparkled when he ate something he especially enjoyed.

"Cecil..." Carlos said gently. But Cecil just sighed and walked out the door. 

Carlos expelled a heavy breath and slowly leaned his head down on the counter. Only he could be so stupid as to blow a chance like this with a guy so great. What a nincompoop he was.

That night he didn't turn in to Cecil's broadcast. He knew it would hurt too much.

The following weeks crawled by. Sales were as good as always, but it just wasn't the same without Cecil lighting up the bakery from his natural effluence. The radio interns would throw Carlos a sympathetic look as they picked up their orders. Josie, trailed as always by the Erikas, patted Carlos on the arm tenderly. Every so often Carlos would see Cecil walking by through the windows out front. He'd always wave, and to his credit Cecil always waved back. But he never came in, and that just wasn't the same. Carlos would stare at him and sigh. What a nincompoop.

Carlos was suddenly shaken to by the bell ringing at the front door. It was Steve Carlsberg, who was grimacing slightly.

"Hi, Steve," Carlos said glumly, "What can I get you?"

"Two banana nut muffins and a vanilla cupcake, please." As Carlos began to bag them up, Steve went on. "I feel just awful about this whole thing with you and Cecil."

Carlos said nothing, but simply shrugged. The situation simply was what it was. A baker and a gluten-free man: the tale of two star-crossed lovers was as old as time. Talking about it wouldn't change anything. Besides, Cecil probably hated him now.

"Yeah, he talks all the time about you."

This got Carlos' attention. "He does?"

"Oh sure! I'm married to his sister, so I guess that makes us half-brothers. Brothers-in-law. Double-brothers. Well anyway, whatever it is, he sure misses you." He ran his fingers through his hair. "Seems a shame you can't just make pastries gluten-free. That way Cecil could still come in all the time."

Carlos smacked himself in the head. How could he have been so foolish? That was it: just make gluten-free pastries! Problem was, he'd worked so long in traditional pastries that he had no idea how. He thanked Steve heartily and, after ringing him up, put up his sign saying "Be back in five." He ran to the Ralph's and bought all the gluten-free flour he could find. Well, tonight would be a long night.

Not only was that night long, so were the next several nights. Carlos truly had to channel the science of baking to find a gluten-free flour blend that resembled white flour in crumb and in flavor. Just when he was trying to figure out what to do with all his failures, one of the Erikas showed up and, wordlessly, took them. Well, at least that problem was solved.

It took a week of little sleep, but finally he thought he had it. But there was only one test. The next time an Erika came to pick up his failures, he asked "Can you show me where Cecil lives?" The Erika smiled wide and nodded. Carlos picked up a paper bag filled with what he hoped were successes, and followed.

Before long, Erika had led Carlos to a small apartment building and pointed to the correct door. As Erika left, Carlos inhaled deeply, then forced himself to blow it out slowly. Then, heart catching in his throat, he knocked.

It was only a few moments before Carlos heard the scrabbling of locks being undone and the door opened. Cecil stood before him, his face flushed. "Carlos, I... Hello," he said in a somewhat puzzled tone. "What brings you here?"

Carlos swallowed hard. "I, uh," he began, his mouth suddenly dry, "I made you something."

Cecil's face fell. "But Carlos, you know - "

"They're gluten-free," Carlos interjected, unceremoniously shoving the bag into Cecil's hands. Cecil's hands shook a little as they reached into the bag.

"Mexican wedding cookies!" He exclaimed. "They're -"

"Your favorite," Carlos finished. "I know. I just... I miss having you come into Bakeology, Cecil. It... It really lit up my day. So if that means I have to change some of my recipes, then so be it."

Cecil smiled gently. "Carlos..."

Carlos gestured to the bag. "Please, try one."

Cecil looked at him uncertainly, then took a bite. Carlos leaned forward. Cecil moaned. "Oh Carlos! They're just as good as they always were! They're - they're perfect!"

Carlos laughed. "Well, I don't know about perfect -"

"No, really, they're perfect!" Cecil insisted. He finished chewing and swallowed in a big gulp. "Just like you."

Carlos blushed, then suddenly seized with a moment of courage, leaned over and kissed Cecil on the cheek. Cecil's color deepened.

"Um, would you like to come in?" Cecil asked.

Carlos smiled lopsidedly. "I'd love to."

The next day a new sign was in the Bakeology window: "We are now gluten-free!"


End file.
